


Lavender's Blue

by ThornedDream



Category: Incarceron Series - Catherine Fisher
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 08:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17804657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornedDream/pseuds/ThornedDream
Summary: Claudia starts her engagement with Finn having serious doubts that she feels any love for him. But maybe a change of heart is possible?





	Lavender's Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!!! I was hoping to upload this yesterday for Valentine's Day, but I got hit with a long shift at work to take care of. Hope you guys like what I was able to get done, even if it's a day late.

Love. Claudia would be shamefully dishonest if she said the subject had never once crossed her mind, especially as the wedding between she and King Giles drew nearer. But regardless still knew these thoughts were likely nothing similar to the ones of most girls her age.

For so long love was more of an abstract and unknowable concept to Claudia rather than a dreamy ideal to wish for. It fascinated her, sure- but more like how a young child is fascinated with puzzles. The meaning of love, in all of its complexity, was what occupied her thoughts rather than what love itself had to offer her.

In fact she couldn't quite recall a time when she could feel the intoxication of love. At least not in the same dizzying ways the girls of the royal court described it.

There was love in her heart for many things, of course. She loved her songbirds, she loved her home at the Wardenry, and she loved her friends. She loved the smell of peach cobbler drifting into the kitchen as a warm springtime breeze swept past the lace curtains and tickled her nose. She loved the soft delicate sounds of water trickling over rocks and twigs as she sat beside the Wardenry's streams and read the pages of a book upon her lap. She loved the smell of disturbed earth during a heavy rain shower, and she loved the way leaves and flowers would dance along to the pitter patter of falling droplets of water.

But the way girls would giggle in a giddy fit when a boy who they fancy would pass by- no that was all too foreign to her.

Maybe she was too haughty for love- a subconscious idea that such a trivial thing made absolute fools of people, and she was too self-occupied to allow herself to be made such a fool.

Maybe there was a piece of her missing- a slice in her mind or heart which was absent and inhibiting her ability to love. Maybe it would prove permanent.

Or maybe she was in many ways still a student, trying too hard to study and understand the reason behind “why” instead of accepting the simplicity of “it is.”

It could be quite possible that she was searching for logic in an area which there is none to be found. She tried so hard to rationalize the processes and steps of what it means to fall in love. Are there criteria to meet for someone capable of falling in love with? And what are the characteristics which distinguish love of the platonic variety apart from love of the romantic variety?

If she were to list and analyze the effects of other girls her age stricken by love (warm cheeks, a racing pulse, lingering stares, the hunger for physical affection, and a complete loss for coherent thought) then by these parameters she could only think of one time when she came close to love.

It was a time when she was a small and innocent girl, first meeting a small and innocent boy. His large brown eyes had trouble meeting hers, and he hid the red of his face behind a bouquet of white roses.

It could be entirely likely, however, that her speeding pulse at the time was due to the overwhelming embarrassment upon receiving such a sentimental gift. And the want for attention on that day could be linked to the desire for a new friend in her life. Being the noble daughter of the esteemed Warden of Incarceron did not allow her to make many companions, and especially not close to her age. Playtime, as she recalled, was painfully dull and lonesome. It was possible she was eager to finally have another child she could share her adventures with.

That logic seemed to make increasingly more sense, as she noticed that even upon the re-entrance of this boy into her life, she felt no giddy swooning in her chest upon seeing him. If she was unable to love Finn now as a lady, then it was all too possible that what she felt for Giles as a child was not love.

Maybe she would never find it, but that troubled her far less than she expected it should. She understood that in a world of politics and power, matters of the heart mattered little to nothing.

The expected marriage between King Giles Ferdinand Alexander Havaarna and his Queen Consort Claudia Arlexa of the Wardenry would be widely understood as an alliance of diplomacy. Nothing more.

And so there was hardly anything fantastical or romantic about it. It was nothing like the fairy tales Claudia read as a child, and that was by every means fine with her. This marriage would be intended as a political advancement towards bridging the Realm and the Prison.

That was how she herself envisioned the arrangement, and it was possible she just assumed Finn regarded the whole situation likewise.

That assumption came crumbling down in chaos in the contrast of a mild spring afternoon.

The day was pleasant, and for this King Giles took extra time away from his mess of treaties, bills, audience requests, shipments, and correspondence. A pair of horses were taken from the stables, a number of meat pies and fruit pastries were taken from the kitchen, and within two hours he and Claudia were seated together in a meadow of daisies and clover.

Conversation came easier to them now that they had other concerns to think about aside from the threat of their own lives and the potential collapse of all known society. They talked about the litter of puppies which would be expected to arrive soon from the lab who took shelter in the Wardenry's barn. They talked about the upcoming food which would inevitably arrive in the approaching harvest of autumn. They talked about the morning previous and the interesting turn of events it held to offer for their friends.

“Really?” Claudia asked after finishing a small berry tart. “You swear you saw such a thing?”

Finn leaned his back against the oak tree behind them, hands rested calmly upon his stomach. He was satisfied and resolute on eating no more. Claudia could finish off the pastries if she wished to. “I wouldn't lie to you.”

An elegant brow twitched upward as the corner of her lips twitched down. She was far from impressed by this argument and she had grown more comfortable in displaying those emotions freely. “You think so? I remember you lying about many things, Finn.”

She expected a rise out of him- a heated frenzy about how he had never lied and her misplaced distrust stung him like a curse. It was a defense that always reminded Claudia that he had been a scared and vulnerable prisoner of Incarceron just as much as he had been a royal heir to an entire realm. Two sides of the same coin- this King Giles was also Finn, and every reminder she got of the recklessness he was capable of only drew her further into herself.

But he surprised her with a collected calmness. He offered nothing more than a shrug of his shoulders, and a compromising, “Well, I wouldn't lie to you about Keiro.”

In that moment, he defied her expectations. Giles had won over Finn, and seeing that color shine through put an unfamiliar feeling in her gut. She didn't know what to name the sensation. She didn't even know what it meant. So she put it out of mind and picked out a bite sized truffle.

“Then it is true? You really saw him leaving Attia's chamber in the morning hours?”

“Trust me: I would recognize that red coat anywhere.”

Claudia was beyond perplexed. The bouts between Attia and Keiro were something to truly behold. Whenever they got into one of their moments, the entire Glass Court would certainly know. It were as if their voices themselves could raise the very roof. Doors would slam, shoes would be thrown, and on occasion even fine ceramic china was shattered. Finn insists that the two had been relatively pacified by the Realm, and these battles were nothing compared to what he witnessed within the walls of Incarceron. But that was still so very difficult for Claudia to imagine.

It could be understood, then, that of all the men capable of departing Attia's chamber in the morning, Keiro would be far from topping that list.

Claudia wiped a few crumbs from her mouth with a handkerchief while running the image through her mind: Keiro passing Attia’s chamber door in the early hours, straightening the coat upon his shoulders with a shrug, letting a smirk come over his features, then strutting down the gilded hallway with all the satisfaction of the Realm. “That really is strange.”

Following this, there was a small stretch of quiet in which neither of them knew what more to say. Finn looked up at the brightly colored sky, trying to make out shapes from the white clouds against their blue background. Of course he would always prefer making shapes out of the nightly constellations, but this pass-time which Claudia had taught him was also pleasant.

Finally the single idea which had been consuming his thoughts was wondered aloud. “Do you think he might be in love?”

Claudia tried but failed at fighting back a single scoffing laugh. “Keiro? In love? I promise to believe it when I see Incarceron himself kissing newborn babes.”

“Besides,” she offered more while returning all the meal items to the basket from which they came, “to want love in times like these would be foolish.”

Finn waited, then struck her with only the first of many questions which would rattle her soundly constructed beliefs. “You really think that?”

“You do not?” she countered almost absentmindedly while folding a napkin.

Then came the second blow. “Why should I? I'm in love.”

To this, Claudia found herself lost in a new tangle of thoughts. Her mind was messy, and for a moment in her confusion she questioned what Finn even meant by those words. But as she turned her head to watch him with surprised and wide eyes, she finally saw it. The answer was written clear on his face with glowing red cheeks and shining deep eyes. Of all the things she could possibly say to him in that moment, all she could come up with was, “Oh I see.”

It was not an answer he was hoping to hear; the slump of his shoulders along with the mild pout of his round lips told her so. And then it came like a storm: the final staggering question which disturbed the silent peace she was so convinced they had found together.

“You really don't love me, do you, Claudia?”

She had no way of knowing what to say, for any possible answer she could offer seemed like a lie. For the first time, “No I don't” sounded equally dishonest in her mind as “Yes I do.” Words eluded her, so she simply finished her work packing up the basket, and she rose to her feet above the green grasses and pink flowers.

But in her utter state of unknowing, she finally came to know this one firm truth: Finn could not be any further from sharing her attitude towards their assured marriage.

The aftermath of this exchange rattled the atmosphere of the court for many weeks, and it seemed invisible to all except the royal couple. There was no hostility between the two, but they strived to evade the presence of each other in hopes of delaying the inevitable confrontation Finn’s unanswered question would bring. Claudia dreaded giving a proper response, and Finn dreaded hearing it.

Just as it were in the beginning months of their reunion, following Finn’s escape from the prison, their bond seemed as unstable as the springtime season. Some days were warm, others were dreary and void of any hope the skies would turn.

During these times the rain would fall and streak along the brightly colored geometric planes of the castle windows. The droplets struck in a pitter patter that, if one would stop to really study their patterns, could possibly be made into a rhythm worthy of carrying a melody.

Perhaps a melody of notes both high and low, plucked elegantly and sure.

When she heard it, Claudia's steps stopped within the main corridor of the court’s western wing. She froze to take in the song, then decided she would pursue it. There were many musicians in the court who could be responsible for the song, but this musician she heard now was unfamiliar. She hadn’t heard a song like this in many years. It was light and jubilant rather than drenched in the angst of gloom.

As she drew nearer to the source, she found her steps quickening to the pace of the carried song. It bounced and blossomed like the flowers that were certain to come in the following weeks. It tickled her chest and made her feet feel light.

And it brought her to the double doors of the court’s main music studio. She hadn’t spent much time there, but recognized it from the visits during her younger years. In those times, the music was likewise joyful and light. The songs were played by an innocent boy, untouched by the cruelty and hatred of the world.

And when she opened the doors to approach the music, the last thing she expected was to see that boy again.

He was sitting at the harpsichord, fingers as lively as the smile on his lips. In this moment, he was just as much Giles as he was Finn. He was young again, and Claudia felt it as well. She was young again too.

Seeing him there, working at the keys of the same harpsichord he grew up on, there was no more doubt left in her heart: he was where he belonged.

Finn had been brought to the realm for a number of years, but only now was when she really felt Giles was back from the dead.

Upon approaching the king she had shared her youth with, delicate hands were rested on his shoulders. They had widened in the brutality of the Prison, but had never felt so familiar as they did now.

Finn froze from the touch, ending his song and raising his gaze to the mystery person who had grabbed his attention. His smile was gone, replaced by his usual anxious stare. The one of a forever scarred inmate. Upon seeing the face of his fiance, however, his wide eyes eased and a hint of his smile returned.

Before he could ask what her purpose was, she moved a wavy brown bang from his face. The tips of her fingers brushed along his forehead. All this affection was unusual for Finn, and the color on his tan cheeks told it well.

“You are playing again?” she asked, speaking in the sincere and kind voice he remembered from the crystal key.

Since his return to the Realm and their many trials and errors, that softness had been traded with a voice that was usually edged with impatience and resentment. Hearing this tone once more was strange but uplifting.

The added word “again” was also enough to surprise him. Just two syllables didn't seem to amount to much, and yet they conveyed so much: Claudia felt she was speaking to Giles, not Finn.

She was speaking to the boy who, so many years ago, had mastered the harpsichord, the viol, the flute, the harp, and his own voice.

After so much time spent in the Realm, still unable to recall how these instruments are played, the pair had begun to lose hope those skills would ever return to him. And yet here he was, playing along as though he had never left.

“Yeah. Some songs came to me this morning,” he explained while fidgeting his fingers along a few black keys.

Claudia decided to move and sit beside Finn on the harpsichord's bench. “Like what?”

And then his fingers got back to work, pressing on the keys and focusing on chords and progressions Claudia could never even try to understand. While the young Prince Giles was busy studying his vast array of musical instruments, Claudia grew up mastering her paints and canvases and chalk pastels.

But despite her inability to play it herself, she still recognized this melody well. It was a song her nurses had taught her ever since her betrothal to the Realm's prince and heir was officially arranged.

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green. When you are king, dilly dilly, I shall be queen.” Her voice was ill practiced, but she did her best to sing along regardless. It came out better than she had expected, in a mild soprano.

Finn, however, was able to sing in the smooth tenor of one who had been well trained. “Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so?”

And as she sang the next line, a final answer to Finn's lingering question, a smile came over her pink lips.

“T'was my own heart, dilly dilly, that told me so.”


End file.
